I have an adorable cat.
Sometimes not very lady-like, but cute nonetheless. She’s in her bed, on my desk. Spooky (whom we call Pooky) came to me about 7 1/2 years ago. She was scrawny, cute and friendly, but a bit of a mess. She arrived at my doorstep one day, after I had been shopping at Walmart. She snuck in and never left. I tried finding her owners, to no avail. So, she stayed.
She was named Spooky because initially we did not know if she was a boy or girl. Having a strange animal walk in off the street is strange enough, but you are kind of wary at first. Should I be doing this? Does she belong to someone else? Is she going to poop in my dining room? Does she have rabies and will she suddenly turn on me? How does she magically appear in the dining room one minute and two rooms over (without passing me) the next and laying there like she’s been there awhile? It was spooky, hence the name that stuck. For a while, I really began thinking maybe there were two of them.
I had no food, no litter box and wasn’t sure if she was staying, but didn’t really want to leave her alone. My sister came over with food and a temporary litter box. She ate like she hadn’t eaten in weeks, threw up (from eating too quickly) and pooped in the litter box. Aces! If no one claims you, you can stay!
I took her to the vet and found out she had already been spayed, however, had a hernia she was likely born with that would have killed her, had she not found us. She got her shots, a clean bill of health and found herself a home. At that time, she was six months to a year old and appeared to have been living outside for a while.
I quickly learned that Spooky has issues with cars. Our yearly pilgrimage to the vet causes great panic for Spooky (still). I invested in a carrier with a top that opens, to prevent our yearly wrestling match, that would put Hulk Hogan to shame. I’d grab her and try to quickly stuff her into the front loading carrier. Immediately, all fours would be splayed out, stiff as a board and in all directions. It was like trying fit a square peg into a round hole, or an open umbrella into a car door (I’ve accidentally tried). I’d get one arm lowered, the other would get stiffer. I’d let go of the one and the other would spring right back up. It started out very calm and I’d get progressively more and more flustered and somehow, in Houdini-esque fashion, Spooky would wriggle out of my arms and the chase was on!
It would all end with her under the bed and me drenched in sweat and exhausted on the phone calling to reschedule the appointment.
I have also learned to layer her carrier with old towels and garbage bags. About five miles from home, layer one gets soiled with pee. About seven miles from home (about half a mile from vet’s door), layer two gets soiled with poop. The first time, I was alone. I was gagging so bad that I thought I might have to just pull over and abandon the car. It got so bad, I did pull over and just flung the poop out the window (don’t worry, no one was behind me). The vet told me I should have brought it for the stool sample. Oops! Now, I travel with baggies (for the vet’s fresh, warm and steamy stool sample. Ick!), wet wipes, air freshener, garbage bags and either my husband or my mother (why should I have all the fun by myself?).
Life is good, with the exception of an occasional pissed off neighbor, a chipmunk being brought into the house, a chipmunk being vomited up in the house and her newest arch enemy, Midas the Orange Cat. My tough, street smart kitty, who would take on any cat in a one mile radius, an occasional dog and any rodent to cross her path, has turned soft. I let her out recently and she almost immediately turned around, tail puffed and I saw Midas hot on her trail, looking like he wanted to make her his bitch. She was having none of it and decided it was better to turn the other cheek. She’s become so peace loving, she befriended a skunk this summer and brought it over to my mom’s house. Mom almost let it in before she realized, “Hey, that’s a skunk!” She said they were sitting side by side, like they were both waiting to be let in. I would have liked a picture of that!
She came from tough beginnings, but weaseled her way right into our hearts and our lives. She’s had some tough moments since, but overall peace and happiness. About 3 1/2 years ago, we moved in next door to my parents. Now she shares her time between us and her grandparents.
Now she’s spoiled and happy! What could better?